The Photo
by Glass Prism
Summary: Remember Michael's picture in RZ's Halloween? Well, here's a short story about that. Reviews would be nice.


Happy Birthday to me. And here's a new short story! Please review.

**The Photo**

Michael was waiting on the porch when his mother pulled up in the car.

"Finally!" he yelled, running down the steps to her. "Mommy, why'd -"

He stopped. He had not failed to notice his mother's increasing belly over the last few months, but had never really connected it to… this.

Deborah held out the small bundle in her arms, a huge smile spreading over her face. She was smiling more than she ever had in the months since Michael's father had died.

"Look Michael," she whispered, pushing aside part of the blanket. "It's your baby sister. Laurie."

Michael stared stonily at the wrinkled little creature.

No…

The thought forced itself out of him. "No!"

Deborah pulled the bundle back. "Michael," she said helplessly, "Didn't you know…?"

"NO!" he screamed. "NO!"

"Michael -"

He ran back inside the house.

***

He rushed back to his room and collapsed on his bed, wiping away a mixture of tears and snot. Then he grabbed a bag from his closet and started dumping things into it. He had just wrapped his rat and its cage on top when his mother came back in.

"Michael, what are you doing?"

What did it look like? "I'm running away."

"Good luck with that," his sister said from her room. He ignored her. Another one like Judith – that was all his mother had "given" him. Another whiny, slutty idiot who went through life using their body to fulfill their selfish needs.

"Michael…" His mother sat on his bed and pulled his bag away. "What's wrong? It's your little sister… someone who needs you and who will look up to you all her life."

"No," Michael muttered. "It's a useless little bitch." Oops, he hadn't meant to say that.

"Michael! Where did you learn that language?" His mother was really pissed now.

"Judith. She says it all the time!" he said defensively. "It's her fault!"

"Maybe if I had a mom who didn't swing on a pole for money I'd be normal!" Judith screamed from her room.

"Judith, shut up!" This was a sore point for Deborah. She added, "I don't see you contributing!" Guilt overwhelmed her, cutting off the anger. A good mother wouldn't scream at her children. Of course it was her fault her children were so fucked up.

"Michael, I'm know I'm not around very often," she said, turning back to the more immediate problem. "So please. I need you to look after your sister. God knows Judith won't do it," she said, smiling at her weak attempt at humor. "Please Michael?"

"No." Michael rolled over on to his pillow. "I hate her."

His mother didn't say anything else. He waited for her to lecture or yell at him, but there was only silence. Eventually he felt her get off the bed, leaving only a shameful pit in his stomach.

***

His hatred continued over the end of the school year and onto summer vacation. It was not diminished by the frequent crying Laurie kept up, or the feeding and diapering his mother had to do. Sometimes he caught Deborah looking at him strangely, but he ignored it. It was harder to ignore the guilt gnawing away at him.

"I'm going shopping," Deborah said, standing in the hallway between her children's rooms. "Be good. Laurie's in her crib; if she wakes up, just get the bottle on the counter, okay?"

There was no answer. Deborah sighed and left the house.

Laurie started crying five minutes after her mother left. When neither of her siblings brought her bottle, her screams increased in pitch.

"Shut that thing up!" Michael roared at his sister from his room.

"You shut it! I'm busy here!"

"You're the oldest!"

"And you're the smallest! Get the fucking bottle!"

Michael was on the verge of correcting her, but decided against it. When Laurie continued screaming, Michael yelled, "JUDITH!"

"You feed the damn thing, because I'm not going to!"

He forced himself out of bed, thinking that feeding her would be easier than arguing with Judith.

***

"Shut the hell up! I've got it!" he roared at his younger sister, having retrieved the bottle. Laurie was silent for one second, possibly out of shock, before she continued her shrieks.

"Okay, okay!" He pushed the bottle into her mouth roughly. "There! Now be quiet!"

He let go of the bottle and it dropped out of her mouth. She started once more to cry.

"Michael, what the hell are you up to?" Judith yelled.

"Shut up and try it yourself!" Michael responded. He picked up the bottle and crammed it into Laurie's mouth. She suckled it, the milk running down the sides of her mouth.

Yes, be quiet…

She placed a chubby fist on the bottle but slipped off. Michael held her hand in his palm, fascinated by it size – it was so tiny.

"You're cuter when you're quiet," he murmured. The baby watched him with large, round eyes. "Just a tip. Stop screaming, that's all."

She slurped down the last of the milk, then burped, a bubble forming over her mouth.

"Eww…" Michael muttered. It popped, splashing white flecks over her face. He wiped it off.

How heavy was she? Not that much, right? She was only a baby after all.

He hauled her up and out of her crib. Oohh, she was heavy. Heavier than his sack full of stuff.

He cradled her in his arms. She was very warm, and so trusting. Completely innocent, just lying in his arms, watching him. It was as if she didn't expect anyone to hurt her. He had never seen that kind of look in a person. Everyone he knew had been hurt, and hurt, and hurt, so many times that they seemed numbed by it. His mother, for one thing. And Judith.

But not Laurie.

What the hell was wrong with her?

Or was there something wrong with him? His family?

Why couldn't she stay this way forever? A pure little baby without any thought of the cruelty of the real world.

He pulled her close to him, and she instinctively nuzzled into his body. The heat from her seemed to spread over him, and he thought his heart might break from knowing about all the mean people outside who would hurt her.

Damn them. Damn Judith. Damn the world.

This was his sister. His little sister, who would always look up to him. He could not, would not, let the world and its evils get to her.

Oops. He was squeezing her a bit too tightly, and she was squirming in discomfort. He loosened his hold.

"Sorry… Laurie." Laurie… he really hated that name. It reminded him of a girl who had teased him at school. Still… maybe he could find a nickname.

"Boo?" he whispered. The baby gurgled in his arms, seeming to agree. "Boo? Do you like it?" Because Halloween was his favorite holiday… and Boo was pretty. He liked Boo.

"I'll take care of you Boo," he said.

She threw up all over his shoulder.

***

Summer passed quickly. Deborah was amazed at the change in Michael. He had turned from a sullen little boy to the best older brother possible. He spent more time feeding, diapering, and playing with the baby than she did.

But it was all so beautiful, watching him play with her. The leaves were starting to fall as autumn approached, and Michael was blowing them into the baby's face.

Too much apparently. A bit of leaf, or dirt, seemed to have gotten into Laurie's face, because she immediately started to wail.

"Oh, I'm sorry Boo," Michael murmured; he dragged her onto the porch steps, trying to comfort her. "Shhh, it's okay, let me wipe it off…"

Deborah smiled and pulled out her video camera. She zoomed in and started filming.

"See? See? All gone!" Laurie giggled, a bubbly sound that captivated her brother.

Deborah's video recorder suddenly went blank. She slapped it, swearing softly, then ran inside the house and came back, bringing an ordinary camera.

"Michael! Look this way!" she called.

Michael turned, and smiled. He pulled Laurie onto this lap and rested his head on hers.

"Smile Boo."


End file.
